all the lonely people FKA: frogger
by spittlepig
Summary: “It’s Sawyer…” Hurley tried to catch his breath, “…he just collapsed dude…” [my tale of Sawyer vs. the frog] JackKate & SawyerKate hints...
1. Chapter 1

AUTHOR NOTE: if you haven't seen the most recent LOST episode "One of Them". then you're probably not going to understand this. but um. basically Sawyer tracks down a frog that's been annoying him. and if you don't want a major spoiler about the frog. stop reading **_NOW_** most of you (i'm assuming) already have heard that that frog was not a tree frog at all. but a green poison arrow/dart frog. if you're learning this information from me right now. whoops. but now you know. and this is what i think will happen. this mostly stays within Sawyer/Jack/Hurley/andLocke characterwise. no Henry. barely any Kate. and probably not anyone else. but i'm a big hypocrit. so who knows... reviewing isn't necessary. it'll go on as long as i can stand to write it. and if my writing style bothers you. it would generally be tough titty for you. but i've been nice and followed regular protocal for punctuation/grammar...

Sawyer looked down at the mottled green and black lump in his hands. A tiny little frog that'd been plaguing his napping pattern today with its mating call, "that's one idea," he commented to Hurley's notion of taking the frog two beaches over in an attempt at everyone's betterment.

But then he closed his fist around the animal, and it crunched between his fingers, turning his palm wet and sticky. Then casually, he opened it back up, examined the mess he'd made of it, and dropped it into Hurley's outstretched hand.

"This'll save you a trip, Kingpin." Sawyer smiled crudely, wiping the frog-goo from his hand onto the side of his jeans. He took a sort of sick pride in the shocked look on Hurley's face, providing himself the pleasure of realizing probably one of the biggest softies on the island finally hated him.

He turned on his heel, leaving the big guy standing there dumbly, the crumpled frog still sitting in the palm of his outstretched hand, and he was barely a few steps away when Sawyer's legs gave out beneath him. His body went icy cold and red spots bloomed like blood in water in front of his eyes. He was slipping into black when he heard Hurley calling his name.

* * *

"Jack!" Hurley came barreling in through the front door of the hatch, collar soaked in sweat, beads rolling down his cheeks, his long curly hair matted to his forehead. "JACK!"

Jack came out from around the corner, a wad of bloody cloth in his hand, an already irritated look wrinkling his brow. Seeing Hurley's frantic expression made his stomach drop. "What's the matter Hurley?"

"It's Sawyer…" Hurley tried to catch his breath, just short of having to bend over and put his hands on his knees, "…he just collapsed dude…"

The wad of bloodied cloth dropped out of Jack's hand and into the sink, and was quickly replaced with a water bottle. He was already heading towards the door before Hurley had even realized it, "take me there," Jack demanded on his way by.

"Aw man." Hurley moaned, just having run all this way, but turned around and followed Jack out the door.

"What's going on?" John had poked his head out from the computer room, but Hurley had already disappeared out into the jungle.

The foliage crashed thunderously underfoot as they ran, Hurley breathing hard and trying to keep in front of Jack to lead, only to have a hell of a time just trying to keep pace with him.

"There." Hurley pointed ahead of himself and stopped in his tracks, unable to run any further, cramps drilling into both of his sides. Jack followed the relative direction of his finger, pushing his way through fronds until he almost nearly stepped on Sawyer, who was lying facedown in the undergrowth.

Jack pushed the man over onto his back, and shoved two fingers into the side of his throat, finding a thready, weak pulse. Hurley managing to finally catch up with him, still breathing hard and looking pale, almost green in the face.

"What happened Hurley?" Jack had a hand on Sawyer's forehead, feeling a powerful fever coursing through the unconscious man. He looked up Hugo, only to see his face turn a sickly olive

"Dude,I don't feel so good," Hurley whimpered, suddenly falling to his hands and knees and vomiting. He had vomited twice more before Jack had gotten over to him. And by the time Jack had kneeled next to him to offer him water, Hurley had collapsed over onto his side, unconscious.

Jack tried to rouse Hurley a couple of times by calling his name and slightly slapping him on the cheek. But that only succeeded in spreading the white-colored sick across his face and in his hair.

Jack leaned back on his toes, putting his hands on his knees, looking from one unconscious man to the other, stunned. "Son of a bitch," he breathed.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack stomped his foot into the hatch door as loud as possible, working hard to stay standing upright as the deadweight body of Sawyer sprawled across his back kept wanted to throw him off balance.

"Come on John." He hissed, his thighs trembling at the strain. He knew he was strong enough to hold Sawyer up easily if he had some help, but with Sawyer completely out of it and his entire body slack, it was like holding a two-hundred-pound sack of potatoes that kept shifting erratically across his back.

It took a couple more stomps before the door finally opened and Jack shouldered past a very confused looking Locke. But he followed Jack silently into the back room where the bunk bed was, watching as Jack fumbled with Sawyer's body.

"Help me." Jack demanded, bending his knees so that Sawyer's legs crumpled around him.

John came forward, but wasn't certain. "What do you want me to do?"

"Get him up on my shoulders, I have to get him onto the top bunk." John locked his arms beneath Sawyer's armpits until Jack could get into a better position of taking the man sideways across his shoulders, draping him like a shall.

"Why not the bottom?" John asked perplexedly.

"Hurley." Was all Jack could press out through clenched teeth, moving as quickly as his precariousness would allow him as he climbed the ladder up to the top bunk. His neck strained with his veins popping out, climbing wrung by wrung, and finally bumping Sawyer's back against the ceiling. He let out a growl as he folded himself enough for the unconscious man to roll off of his shoulders.

There was a horrifying moment where Sawyer almost accidentally rolled the other way, but Jack managed to catch him with a hand at the small of his back and shove him onto the mattress, making sure to leave him lying on his side, should he vomit.

"What about Hurley?" John asked as Jack climbed back down, panting intensely.

"He's still out there, he's unconscious," Jack stalked past him. "Look, I need you to find a board or a net or something to help me get him in here. I'm going to find Sayid, I'll meet you back here at the hatch in five minutes."

Before Locke could question anything, Jack was already out of the hatch and running through the jungle towards the beach.

It took him a bit to find Sayid sitting next to Charlie, a ways off from their campsite.

"Sayid!" he called out, ignoring the somewhat bothered look that came from the Iraqi. "I need your help." Everything that had transpired about the their questionable prisoner only a few minutes before was still fresh in Sayid's mind.

Sayid rose to his feet warily, taking one interested look at the frazzled man before looking to Charlie, who was about to rise, until Jack called him on it. "Not you Charlie, I just need Sayid." He disappeared back into the jungle before he could see the dagger-ridden look Charlie'd given him.

"Now Sayid!" came Jack's call and Sayid trailed obediently, tromping off through the plants.

When Sayid came into view, Jack took off at a sprint, "come on." he tore through the jungle, everything around him becoming a green and brown blur, and he hoped that Sayid was keeping on his heels. The voice from behind him assured that he was.

"Where are we going Jack?" Sayid's tone was distantly nonplussed.

"We're headed for the hatch. Locke's meeting us there. Hurley's passed out in the jungle." That was all Jack really needed to say because they'd come back to the hatch and sure enough Locke was standing there, though he was empty-handed.

"I couldn't find anything." Locke said simply. And knowing him as a rather resourceful man, Jack believed him.

"Damnit!" Jack huffed with his hands on his hips, blinking to keep his eyes from going fuzzy.

"What exactly could you not find?" Sayid asked, barely out of breath.

"We need to get something to move Hurley back here…" Jack panted. "…like a board or a net."

Sayid stiffened, "I will be right back," and he took off. Leaving Jack and Locke to stare hopefully at his retreating backside.

When he returned a few minutes later, he was holding a large, crudely-made net in his arms, some of it dragging along the ground behind him. "A net." He said simply, getting a grateful smile from Jack – who'd regained his breath – and now took off past him. "This way."

He led them through the dense fronds, shifting through cypresses, until finally they came to Hurley, lying on his side on the ground, having puked again.

All three men went into immediate action as if they'd trained for this; Sayid threw down the net behind Hurley while Jack and Locke went to both of Hurley's ends, Jack taking his shoulders and Locke taking his feet, and on the count of three, rolled him onto his back carefully.

Then the three men took a place at the loose end of the net, got a good grip on it, and began to drag Hurley through the jungle. "We keep this discreet and quiet." Jack said, though he didn't really have to.

He knew that these men understood how humiliating this would be for Hurley if he knew someone had found out about this. But this all boiled down to what had to happen to get him back to the hatch, he was a big guy, too big for any of them to carry, and getting him indoors and figuring out what was wrong with him was Jack's number one priority.


	3. Chapter 3

It took them considerably longer to get back to the hatch than it did when Jack was carrying Sawyer, their pulling slowed by twisted roots and dense underbrush. And by the time they'd gotten Hurley into the hatch and up into the bottom bunk, they were all completely winded. 

Jack, despite his breathlessness, went about gathering up his tools from the storeroom and desktop. He produced his penlight and pushed open Hurley's eyes, getting the proper pupil reaction when he shone the light into them. Then he climbed up the ladder and did the same to Sawyer, bent over awkwardly to compensate for the close ceiling.

Sawyer's face was sallow and his skin burning when Jack touched it, his pupils reacting minimally to the penlight. He put the light between his teeth and worked Sawyer out of his shirt, throwing it to the floor, trying to cool him down.

As he was climbing back down the ladder, Sayid asked, "what is wrong with them?"

"I don't know," Jack said somewhat irritably, going back to Hurley and feeling his forehead, he didn't feel as nearly as hot as Sawyer did. "Sawyer has a high fever. And Hurley complained of nausea before he passed out in the jungle..." he went out into the kitchen and returned with a mop bucket, a wet towel, and another towel full of ice cubes. Sayid and Locke were talking.

"Perhaps it is the fever that Henry talked of." Sayid said, one hand holding his other at the elbow, his chin in his hand, looking concernedly from Locke to the armory where their shifty captive was still being held.

"What fever?" Jack asked, putting the bucket down next to Hurley's bedside and then climbing up the ladder again. Untying Sawyer's shoes and pulling him out of his pants, pressing the ice against Sawyer's face and neck and chest intermittently.

"Henry talked of a fever that killed his wife." Sayid called up to him.

"Do you think he was lying?" John asked.

"Normally, I would think yes. However, Rousseau also talked of it." Sayid explained. "It seems it was the fever that drove her to kill her research team. It had turned them delirious."

"Hurley doesn't have a fever." Jack stated, looking down towards the men on the floor.

"Perhaps he ate something?" Sayid mentioned. and Jack'smind went whizzing through possibilities, food poisoning, overripe fruit, bad fish, gamey boar,accidentallyeating a poisonous bug…

"Were they together when Sawyer blacked out?" Locke asked.

"I don't know John," Jack answered honestly. Either they were or Hurley had happened across Sawyer, it was anybody's guess.

"Then I guess we'll have to wait until one regains consciousness." Locke stated obviously, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Not very long," Sayid said, leaning over, "I believe Hurley is awakening."

Jack heard a moan and felt the bed move as Hurley moved, Jack leaving the towel spread across Sawyer's chest as he stumbled quickly down the ladder.

"Easy," Jack said, helping Hurley to sit up, letting him move his legs move off the side of the bed. The boy looked a little green, licking at his sour mouth with a dry tongue.

Hurley expelled rolls of sick-ripe breath, "dude," he gasped, snatching the bucket quickly from the floor and managing to pull it into his lap before he threw up again. This one was less productive than the ones in the jungle had been, only managing to expel a little white spit from his system.

"Can I have some water?" Hurley asked, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

"Not while you're puking, you won't be able to keep it down." Jack handed him the wet towel to clean off his face with instead, sitting down next to him on the bed. "Do you know what's making you sick Hurley?"

Hurley dry heaved before he answered. "No, man."

John and Sayid stood silently in their places, watching.

"Was it something you ate?" Jack asked.

"No." Hurley dry heaved again, figuring that while eating an eighth of a large tub of tepid ranch dressing would make him ill, it wouldn't make him _this_ sick. It had to be something else.

"You're sure?" Jack emphasized, and when Hurley nodded and gagged, he believed him. "Okay. So, take me through your day. I want to know what you did, what you might've come in contact with, anything that you think might've made you sick."

Far from willing to divulge his food stash, Hurley kept the details scarce, until he came to the frog-hunt Sawyer'd negotiated him into. "…and then Sawyer came by because some tree frog was annoying him and asked me if I would help him look for it. And we found it and he smashed it."

Jack blinked. "Anything else?"

"No dude, that was it." Hurley dry heaved once more, a timid one, before letting his head fall back against the side of the top bunk, closing his eyes.

Locke's brow was furrowed. "Are you sure it was a tree frog? What did it look like?" He asked after a moment.

"I dunno man, like a frog…" Hurley looked up with one eye, his head swimming while his stomach roiled.

"Was it mottled? Or patterned? All green?" His questions were calm.

"Uh." Hurley had to dig deep beneath the sickness to find the memory. "It was black …and green…?"

"Bright green?" Locke asked.

"I think so…" Hurley managed another dry heave, then resumed panting.

Locke's face became more intense and just the sound "hmm," came out from between his lips.

"You wanna help me out here John?" Jack asked with a sharp tone, figuring Locke had been prodding because he knew the reason why Hurley was sick.

John took a moment before answering, rubbing a finger across his lips. "I think he and Sawyer might have come across a Dendrobates auratus."

"A what?" Jack asked impatiently.

"A Poison Arrow Frog, I caughta glimpse of a couple of them while I was exploring the jungle. They secrete a poison from their skin when a predator comes in contact with them, usually when it tries to eat them. There's even a tribe in South America that rubs their spearheads in it to aid them in hunting…"

Jack pushed himself to his feet, "what are the effects?" his dark eyes were intense.

"I'm not positive," Locke said directly. "but I think that if it's ingested it can cause paralysis or even be fatal."

"Did you eat it Hurley?" Jack turned back to Hurley quickly.

Hurley suddenly looked crestfallen. "Dude. Do you really think I would have eaten a frog?"

Jack was about to correct himself when Sayid stepped in, "he's simply saying that the food has become rather monotonous lately. Perhaps you were interested in trying a different-"

"No." Hurley interrupted coldly, "I didn't eat the frog. Sawyer smashed it and then put it in my hand. And all because he's a jackass who wouldn't just let me take it somewhere else…"

Jack stood there for a moment then went out of the kitchen and came back with two wetted and soapy towels, throwing one at Hurley. "Wash your hands and anything you might've touched after Sawyer handed you that frog." He directed as he climbed up the ladder with the other towel, washing both of Sawyer's hands like he would have if he were scrubbing in for surgery, getting in between his fingers and all the way up to his elbows.

"Did Sawyer touch anything else?" Jack asked as he was climbing back down, taking the towel from Hurley.

"Uh, I think he wiped it on his pants." Hurley recalled.

And Jack snatched Sawyer's jeans from the end of the bed by the cuff, carefully hanging it away from his body and shaking them, a wallet falling out of the worn back pocket. Then he pulled the belt loose from the loops and set them both on the desktop.

"Do you think you're going to be sick anymore?" Jack asked hopefully, wanting the bucket.

"No. Take it." Hurley was glad to be rid of thestinky bucket, somewhat surprised when Jack shoved the jeans and the used towels straight into it, which made an unpleasant shlucking sound.

"John." Jack said, "do you know where any matches are?"

"Uh, yes." Locke disappeared into the storeroom and came back holding a box of them.

"Sayid, you stay with Hurley. If Sawyer wakes up, keep him from moving around, I'll be back in a second." He watched Sayid nod understandingly before he and John went out of the front door to the hatch, closing it behind them.

Jack put the bucket on the ground and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to catch his racing mind.

"Jack?" Locke asked quietly.

Jack opened his eyes and looked over to the man,hoping that whatever he was aboutto say wouldn't fryhis last nerve.

"Both you and I know that this would be the perfect opportunity to find where Sawyer hid those guns…" his comment sounded offhand, his eyes turned up to the glimmering sky between the tree.

Jack thought for a long moment, choosing his answer carefully. "As much as I'd love to go into the jungle to find them, I can't. I've got Sawyer to deal with, that man in the armory, _and_ making sure no one else comes into this hatch until I can figure out what the hell we're going to do about all three of those. Maybe when Sawyer wakes up..."

John smiled oddly, still looking up. "Do you really think he's going to give up the location of the guns that easily?"

"I don't know John," Jack said aggrivatedly, fumbling for a match from the box and trying to get it to light, whenit didn't, he hurled it to the ground in anger. "...if he's in shock, it's possible."

"He's aresidual man," Locke continued, "even if he's close to death. He's not afraid of it, I believe he wants it."

"Yeah well..." Jack tried to light another one, seething. Sawyer may be thebiggest pain in the ass Jack had ever come across, but he didn't wish him dead, his constitution wouldn't allow him to say it outloud."...then I guess we better hope Sawyer talks in his sleep again." Jack tried to light a third one.

Lockefinally turned to look at Jack, still smiling. "I'd stop tryingif I were you."

"Trying what?" Jack hissed through clenched teeth, infuriated.

"It's going to rain any second now." Locke held his arms outstretched, alsoholding uptwo fingers and thumb on one hand,folding them down slowly. His thumb curled in just as a torrentialshower of rain came pelting down from the sky, instantly soaking them.

They stood there in an uncomfortable silence, until a faint sound and a voice said, "having a barbeque in the rain?"

"Kate." Jack stated as the dark haired girl emerged from the jungle, smiling pleasantly through her wet hair. "what are you doing here?" This was great. _Just_ what he needed.

"I'm here for my shift Jack, I replace John." Kate said bemusedly, her thumbs tucked under the straps of her backpack.

"It's alright, I've got it." Jack tried, finally dropping the last useless match into the bucket. "You should get back to the beach, it's drier under your tent."

"Uh. It's also dry in the hatch, if you'd let me by." Her eyes fell on the bucket and its contents, "were you about to burn clothes?" she asked confusedly.

Jack couldn't squirm out of this one, "yeah."

"Who's?" But the look on his face told her he wasn't going to say right away, "what's going on Jack?" She eyed the two men suspiciously.

"Look Kate," Jack broke down, figuring letting her know the truth would be better than pussyfooting around it, he was tired of lies."Sawyer and Hurley are in there, and they're sick."

"Sawyer's sick?" her eyes brightened in concern, and she made a move towards the door, only to have Jack step in front of her. "How sick? What happened to him?"

"I can't let you go in-" Jack began, yelling slightly over the rain.

"It was a Poison Arrow Frog, they found one in the jungle." Locke interrupted and Kate just blinked at him.

"A Poison Arrow Frog…" those words sounded so familiar and yet foreign to her. Her mind still racing over the fact that Sawyer was sick and needed taken care of. "So wait, you were about to burn his clothes?"

Jack looked intensely into her eyes, being up front with her. "There's already too many people involved, you're not going to be any help to me or anyone else in there."

"Who?" Kate countered stiffly. "Who else is involved? And what are you talking about? I helped before!"

"This is completely different." Jack took a step forward. "Please Kate," he urged, "go back to the beach. I swear you'll be the first to know if something happens."

"I'm not going anywhere Jack." Kate's face was tense, her jaw set.

Jack took a minute to think, "fine, but you stay _out here_. And John will also stay out here with you." Jack looked over his shoulder towards Locke, seeing him nod.

Then he sighed heavily, and pointed towards the bucket. "When the rain stops, burn that down until it smolders. Then just leave it, I'll take care of it when I come back out. And don't let anyone come into this hatch, no matter what."

He looked at Kate with one final intense look of '_follow my orders_' before he turned on his heel and went into the hatch, making sure to airlock the door behind him. Leaving them to stand outside in the rain.

* * *

gah. if any of the characters slip out of character i'm sorry. my brain can really only wrap around two people at a time. and i kind of screwed myself over adding a third person. Locke sounds_ way_ off. i realize that. sorry. Locke's a tricky kid to talk for...


	4. Chapter 4

so what i really should have been apologizing for in the last chapter was Jack and my horrible scapegoat attempt with Kate. i'll remedy that soon. i'll try to make sure i don't do that again...and i'm posting this next chapter so soon as an apology.

* * *

Jack made a b-line for the shower to get a couple large towels and then headed into the laundry room to remove his soaking shirt, dried himself off with one of the towels, and put on a brown hoodyhe foundin there. Then he went into the kitchen and pulled out all the ice the freezer had in it, gathering it into the other towel. 

Sayid was sitting next to Hurley on the bed, both looked up as Jack entered, but remained silent as he climbed the ladder. Sawyer was moaning softly, the ice left on his chest having melted.

Jack replaced the old towel with the new one. "Did he wake up at all while I was gone?" Jack asked, scooping some crushed ice from the pile and pressing it against Sawyer's forehead, holding it there.

"No." Sayid said coolly, stepping out from under the bed, "he has just recently been making noises."

"Did he say anything?"

"I could not understand most of it." Sayid paused between sentences."Do you think perhaps that the toxin the frog secretes causes hallucinations?"

"Why?" Jack looked down to him.

"They sounded very nearly like words, though I could be mistaken." His voice was rather cold and curt, it had sounded dead since the accident with Shannon had happened.

"Do you think Sun can help?" Hurley offered, leaning out from beneath the bed. "she's good at understanding garble..." his face had regained a lot of color.

Both men looked at him seriously.

"She is Korean." Sayid said severly.

"It was a joke dudes..." Hurley retreated back under the bunk.

The four-minute alarm sounded overhead and Sayid rose to deal with it.

"The frog wasn't even that annoying…" Hurley mentioned offhand, trying to fill in the uncomfortable silence and relieve himself of his bad joke. He was looking at the palm of his hand where a faint red rash had appeared.

Sayid came back into the room, but remained in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe, looking up at Jack who was fumbling with the ice against Sawyer's chest, trying to keep it on him.

Jack didn't like the fact that Sawyer wasn't reacting to the ice, but he kept it to hismelf.

"If you will no longer be needing me Jack, I would like to return to the beach." Sayid said, not wanting to stay in the hatch anymore. Whether it was the company, the man in the armory,or the hatch itself–maybe all three – he didn't want to be here.

"I think I'll go with him." Hurley tried, beginning to rise, but Jack refused.

"No, Hurley. Stay still for at least another hour. If you're looking better by then, you can leave." Jack wanted to keep an eye on him, just to be on the safe side.

Hurley sank back into the bunk begrudgingly, but didn't say anything.

"You can go Sayid." Jack said, turning back to Sawyer, who was mumbling even more loudly, but still as incoherently.

"Thank you for your permission…" Sayid said beneath his breath, then turned and left.

Jack ignored it, until Hurley commented. "Are things alright between you two?"

"Yeah Hurley, everything's fine." Jack sighed.

Hurley nodded to himself, not liking the heavy silence that suddenly filled up the room again, especially put off by Sawyer's fevered mumblings. And sticking it out for as long as he could,he finally surrendered,"do you wanna put on some music? It'll help this go by a lot faster…" he stuck his head out and looked up at Jack, who after a moment, agreed.

"I'll get it, you take it easy." Jack said when Hurley moved to rise again. Jack took the time to remove the towel from Sawyer's chest, figuring he'd brought his fever down as much as he could before he soaked the entire bed with water, and pulled the sheets up to Sawyer's waste, before climbingdown and going outto the record player, depositing the towel into the sink. He chose a vinyl at random and put it on, before returning to the room. Hurley had lied back in the bed, an arm thrown over his eyes.

Jack took a seat at the desk chair, rubbing his hand over his hair agitatedly. It wasn't an infection, so he couldn't cure it with antibiotics. He didn't have the proper equipment to filter out whatever kind of neurotoxin it was. And most of all-

"Can I tell you something?" Hurley asked suddenly.

It took Jack a minute to realize what Hurley had said. "Sure Hurley," he cleared his throat and sat forward in his chair.

Hurley took his arm off of his eyes and looked up at the bottom of the top bunk. "Doctor, patient confidenti-whatever still applies on the island after all this time? Right? I mean, between me and you? You won't tell anyone?"

Jack managed a small, breathy laugh remembering last time Hurley had started a conversation like that. "Just tell me what's going on."

"Back home," he pursed his lips, "I won the lottery."

"Really?" Jack asked after a moment, having expected it to be something embarrassing or medically related, anything but that.

Hurley turned onto his side, propping his head up with his hand, "I won a hundred and fifty six million dollars."

"Okay." Jack said casually, figuring this was eventually going to lead somewhere.

"Do you ever just want someone to believe you? Even if it goes against everything normal?" Hurley asked. "But you know that if they agree with you, then it'll make it all better? At least make it so that you can stand it?"

"I'm not really sure what we're talking about here…" Jack said, confused.

"You know those numbers we have to type in every 108 minutes?"

"Yeah."

"And you know those notes the crazy French chick wrote down?"

"Uh-huh."

"And when Locke was gonna light the fuse to blow open this whole underground cement time bomb thing?"

"Hurley…" he just wanted to know.

"I think those numbers are cursed." Hurley spat out quickly.

"What? I didn't-" Jack hadn't understood him.

"The numbers dude. 4, 8, 15, yadda yadda," he looked rather sheepish as he said this, "I think they're cursed."

Jack slid himself back in his chair, letting his hands drop into his lap. "What makes you say that?"

"I used them to win the lottery, then all this bad stuff started happening. My grandpa Tito, he died. My mom, she broke her ankle. I got accused of being a drug dealer…"

"Wait a mintue, someone accused _you_ of being a drug dealer?" Jack couldn't help but smile at this.

"Yeah." Hurley stated understandingly, "I know. Right? So anyway, all this bad stuff. And now the plane going down, the mean scary loud thing in the jungle, the hatch, the doom button…"

Jack went to open his mouth, but Hurley cut him off.

"And if you're just gonna say it's all in my head or I'm being crazy or there's no such thing as curses, then don't. I don't want to hear that I'm wrong." His voice became desperate, "maybe I am wrong! I don't know. Or maybe _you're_ all wrong! But the fact is that nobody knows where the hell we are and what the hell we're going to do if we never get off this stupid island!"

"Whoa, Hurley, calm down." Jack was out of his chair and had his hands held out defensively as he came up to him.

"No! I'm not going to calm down! I'm tired of being pushed around and stepped on and taken advantage of! The only one who freakin' believes me is a French loony! It isn't fair! I don't want to be here anymore! I never wanted things to change! I don't deserve this crap! I'm a nice guy!" he paused, "and I'm going to puke!" He held his lips together as his cheeks swelled in an attempt to vomit. Jack swung himself back, but kept one hand on his shoulder.

Hurley didn't end up vomiting, just dry heaving. Chances are there wasn't anything left in his stomach to throw up, but the possibility was real enough.

"Just take it easy." Jack sat down next to Hurley on the bed, putting an arm around him comfortingly.

"Dude," Hurley whimpered, pressing his knuckles up to his eyes, trying to fight back tears, "this place is the worst."

* * *

Two hours later Hurley had managed to calm down, get some rest, and regain all of his color back, even managing to hold down some water, which Jack assured him was a very promising. 

He convinced him to stay in the hatch a little bit longer, at least until the alarm went off again, then allowed him to go back to the beach. Advising him to take it easy for the rest of the day and drink plenty of water, then also telling him to tell Kate and Locke if they were still out there to continue not letting anyone in.

Jack yawned widely after Hurley had left, rubbing his eyes and turning his attention fully back to Sawyer.

Sawyer's mumbling had quieted, but his lips were still moving.

Jack climbed up the ladder. "Sawyer?" he asked rather loudly, hoping that maybe he could take the upper hand of this situation like John had suggested. "Sawyer?"

Sawyer jerked his head to the side and mumbled something.

"Where are the guns Sawyer?"

He mumbled something else.

"Where did you hide the guns?"

"…Tampa Job…" he caught those two words through a string of muttering.

"Sawyer. Where are the guns?" he asked again.

"…Sawyer…" he seemed to mimic Jack's voice, but his voice slipped into a gruff, incomprehensable whisper and Jack sighed irritably, rubbing the stubble across his chin.

Maybe Kate was right. She'd been helpful before, let her take care of him, let him be her problem. But the thought of watching the two of them together, having things in common and those looks they gave each other, the thoughtmade his insides tighten.

Jack climbed back down and the urge to think of something else immediately took him over. He went out and changed the music, taking his time to look through the albums, seeing if he could find anything he'd actually heard of, putting on something soothing.

* * *

poor sweet Hurley-bird. the kid's got it rough. so i made him get better quick. 

although that island has a way of getting people on the mend much faster than it would usually take too...so who knows. maybe i was channeling the island.

or maybe i'm just and idiot. all's fair.


	5. Chapter 5

Xedra helped me out here…so thanks very much for that. and i think this chapter is my favorite so far. hopefully you'll agree. i think i was prettyawesome this time at staying in character...

* * *

Three hours later and already having reluctantly strayed into unknown artists when it came to the vinyls, Jack still found himself in the hatch, trying to cripple his boredom by flipping through some of the novels from the bookshelf, but nothing could hold his attention long enough. 

Sawyer hadn't done anything but mumble for the past hour, a sound that had managed to evolve from being unbelievably and completely annoying to nothing more than an indiscriminate noise in the back of Jack's head. And against his better judgment, Jack had put the numbers into the computer when the alarm sounded, blaming it on how fuzzy his mind was, not having realized he was doing it until the numbers in the wall had flipped back to 108, amazed at how strong of a hold conditioning already had on him.

Eventually though, he gave up with waiting and rifled through his bag, before going outside, convincing himself he needed air, but really only interested in seeing if Kate was still sitting out there.

Sure enough. She was sitting on the ground beside the door, poking a stick into the dying fire that was spitting up little embers from the bucket.

She turned to see him walk out, noting that there was no excessive emotion on his face to signify that something had happened, so she turned back to the bucket.

"You're still out here." Jack knew better than to be amazed at that.

"What do you want Jack?" her voice sounded bitter.

Jack stood behind her for a moment, before he pressed his hand to her shoulder. "Here, I brought you something."

Kate looked up to find him holding an Apollo candy bar against her, "what's this for?"

"A peace offering," Jack smiled when she took it.

"Oh so it's a guilt gift?" she asked wryly, her bitterness having instantly faded.

Jack attempted a laugh, "or I thought you might be hungry."

She nodded skeptically, then looked up again, squinting at him as the sun was right over his shoulder. "Do you want to split it with me?"

Jack smiled widely, then squatted down, careful to keep his backside out of the mud. Kate on the other hand was sitting right in it, apparently having given up trying to stay clean.

"Did it rain again?" Jack asked, looking out into the lush, wet vines that surrounded them.

"Three times." Kate said exasperatedly.

"Arzt said it was monsoon season..." he noticed the goose bumps on her arms. "Do you want my sweater?"

"No, I'm fine." She rubbed the bumps away encouragingly.

"Good." he smiled, "cause I don't have anything on under it."

She laughed, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, staring at him until her face fell into concern. If he noticed her watching him, he didn't show it. "You look tired." His eyes looked swollen and raw, his face drawn. He turned to her for a moment, before looking to the ground, picking a stick out of the mud and throwing it into the bucket, "I'm fine."

"Right," Kate knew that was going to be his answer, "like you always are."

He laughed, agreeing, "like I always am."

"Except for when you're running yourself ragged. Or like earlier today…" she cut him down.

He thought about his answer carefully, "I was out of sorts." He tried to explain.

"Mhmm." She started unwrapping the Apollo bar.

He caught her gaze and held it, "I'm sorry."

She took a minute before she spoke, allowing the words to seep into the jungle. "Is that a 'sorry please come into the hatch'? Or a 'sorry, I'll never do it _again_, please come in the hatch'?" Kate didn't try to be sneaky about it.

Jack looked out into the jungle again, frowning slightly, "where's Locke?"

"I asked my question first Jack."

There was a steady silence for a long while. "Alright," Jack surrendered finally, knowing it wouldn't stop. "You can come in the hatch."

She ripped off about half of the bar and handed it to him. "He left."

Jack let out a breathy laugh, knowing that that was all she was going to give him. Then got to his feet, leaning over the smoldering ash that use to be jeans, shoving the candy bar into his mouth. He waited until he'd finished chewing before talking, remembering when Rose had called him on his manners. "Good work with that," he motioned toward the bucket.

Kate stood too, eating and brushing the thick buildup of mud from her pants in vain, "no problem."

Jack shook his hand into his sleeve and grabbed the handle, upending the bucket into the mud. The remaining embers fizzled and died as he pushed more mud on top of it with his shoe. "I mean it. Thanks for doing that. I really appreciate it…" he went on.

She looked at him warily, "it wasn't a problem Jack…"

He rubbed his hand across his chin, looking kind of smug. "Now, the only thing is. You're going to have to be the one to tell Sawyer _you_ burnt his only pair of pants." Jack couldn't get through the sentence with grinning, watching Kate's face go from confusion, to realization, to shock.

"No!" She yelled, bending over with her free hand and scooping up a handful of mud, chucking it at him. It splattered against the side of the hatch, just inches from where his head had disappeared inside the door. "That's unfair!" she yelled through laughter, picking up more mud to hurl at him.

He managed to block the second one with the hatch door, but the third one caught him in the side of the face and he disappeared into the hatch. Kate took a moment to laugh triumphantly before following him in, seeing him try to dig mud out of his eye and rub his cheek.

"Are you okay?" she asked through breaths of laughter, coming towards him.

"Yeah," he pressed his palm over his cheek, his white showing brightly through the mud, "I think there was rock in that last one."

Kate tried to calm herself, holding a hand out towards his face, "let me see," she didn't see any physical damage, "you're fine. You could use a shower though."

"Really?" Jack asked, noticing that she hadn't stepped back from him.

"Yeah," she said, "a lot."

"You should be one to talk."

She punched him in the chest as soon as the sentence left him, his subsequent laugh interrupted by coughing. "Ah, I was talking about the mud…"

"Yeah right," she stepped back, half realizing how close they'd been, trying to play it off. She headed towards the sink to wash her hands. "Well you take your shower first and then I'll go."

"Right." Jack squinted at her for a minute.

"Go." she said emphatically.

Jack grinned at her, the grin that made his cheeks and eyes crinkle, before he shook his head bemusedly and went into the room where Sawyer was.

"That's the wrong room Jack!" She called, picking a clod of mud from her hair.

Jack walked back out, still smiling, looking absurd with part of his face splattered in mud, but he didn't say anything as he walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

Kate bent and untied her boots, taking them off and putting them into the sink to clean later. Then she heard the water turn on in the bathroom and couldn't help as a little smile curled the side of her lip. Quickly though, she pushed her imagination aside with a self-deprecating laugh and went into the laundry room. She found a pair of jeans that looked like they might fit her and a brown button up shirt, promptly changing into them, throwing her muddied clothes into the washer.

In Sawyer's room, it was silent, Kate having to look around for a moment before she saw him on the top bunk where she hadn't expected him to be, only realizing he was there because his arm had fallen slightly off the side.

She went to move his hand back up onto the bed when she caught sight of the painful-looking raspberry-colored lesion that had spread out all over his hand and he groaned consciously.

"Sawyer?" She remembered back to when she'd been watching over him before when he'd been shot, how he'd grabbed her throat, but despite it, she leaned over him.

"Freckles." His voice was a rasp whisper, straining, his eyes shut tight.

"Sawyer," she put her hand on his inner elbow and his face immediately went tense.

"Where's Jack?" he asked, his voice hitched.

"I'll get him." Kate said, slightly stunned at the fact that he was asking for Jack of all people and using his first name.

She slid down the ladder and was to the bathroom in a couple deft strides, trying the handle to find it locked. "JACK!" she yelled over the shower, pounding her fists into the door, "Jack! He's awake! Sawyer's awake! There's something wrong!"

She heard the water shut off, the rustling sound of clothes being hastily pulled on and Jack emerged, finishing zipping up his jeans. They were riding low on his hips and he dripped water everywhere as he followed Kate back into the bedroom.

"Sawyer." Jack climbed up, leaning over so much that he had a knee on the mattress. Sawyer's face was still tense, his left hand gripping the sheets tightly. "Don't…touch….me." the statement was made as a desperate request.

"Where are you hurting?" Jack's hand floated cautiously over Sawyer's body like he might locate the heat of the pain with his palm.

"Every-where." Sawyer tried to swallow down the pain, but it was like all the things around him were white-hot daggers, Jack's voice, the feel of the mattress, the thunder of his blood pumping through his ears, the sound of his hair against the pillow, the drips of water falling onto his chest. His eyes, even from beneath their lids, searing like someone was drilling into them.

Jack realized immediately what was going on, relating it to the effects he'd seen in some of the spinal cord injuries he'd worked on: hypersensitivity.

He turned to Kate, who was standing on the bottom bunk so that she could see what was going on, "I need you to close the windows and shut off all the lights." He whispered it so quietly she had to strain to hear him.

Though not really understanding, she nodded and got down, shutting out the artificial sunlight beside the bed and in the kitchen, then turned all the other lights off except the one in the computer room, afraid that it might be connected to the button.

Jack passed her as she was headed back into the room, but she grabbed his arm and pulled him out into the center of the hatch. "What's wrong with him?"

He put a hand up to tell her to keep her voice down, "we need to keep things around him as still, dark and quiet as possible." Jack whispered in a hiss, looking very concerned.

"Jack. What's wrong with him?" Kate repeated herself, bringing her voice down to his level.

Jack sighed heavily, "he has hypersensitivity. The neurotoxin that came from the frog, it's affecting his central nervous system," she walked with him as he went to get things, "it's like paresthesia after abdormition, except it's extremely intense..."

"Jack." She stopped following him, watching him anxiously as he continued to move around. He rummaged through a bag on the floor and produced a disposable syringe, a bottle, and some gauze. Then he shoved everything but the gauze and syringe into his pocket, going into the bathroom and came back out with the last washcloth, finally explaining it to her. "He has…" he worked to find the simple description that was alluding him, heading back into the bedroom, "…it feels like severe pins and needles."

"More like sledgeham-" but Sawyer couldn't finish his remark, pain overtaking him and sucking the breath out of his lungs. His eyes flashed open for a split second and he let out a growl of pain, which made him move, which made the pain worse.

"Sawyer stay still." Jack crawled into the bottom bunk, messing with the shutters on the window. "Is this as dark as you can make it?"

Kate was standing in place in the doorway, her arms wrapped around herself, looking worriedly at both men. "It's automated, Jack. The light won't dim to night until later."

Jack backed out with an irritated sigh and climbed up to Sawyer's level, speaking softly to him, seeing the man fighting back pain. "Sawyer. I need you to take really slow, long breaths, try to relax your body. Don't move anything but your chest." Sawyer didn't appear to be doing as he instructed for a long minute. "C'mon man. You have to work with me here. Long, slow breaths. Breathe in."

Sawyer found a shakey breath to take in, the cool air of the hatch setting his lungs on fire. "Good." Jack said, not realizing that he was physically instructing Sawyer by breathing that way hismelf. "Now out. Slow. Slow!" Sawyer was fighting it. "Slowly."

Sawyer made a face like he was going to say something cheeky. "Just shut up Sawyer..." Jack hissed interruptingly, not in the mood. "You can be an ass later. Right now, you need to breathe. So let out your breath...slow...slo-...slower than that..." Sawyer did as he was told, but he was scowling. "Good. In...now out."

Eventually, Sawyer's hand loosed on the bedsheets, his body slowly relaxing. Although the pain still remained, it seemed dulled. Jack continued encouraging him, "just keep doing that, steady breaths. I'm going to put a towel over your eyes, okay?" Sawyer made no effort to disagree, so Jack folded the washcloth a couple of times to make it opaque, before laying it across his forehead. Then pulled the bottle from his pocket, uncapping and filling a quarter of the syringe with whatever sedative was in the bottle, gently took Sawyer's arm, turning it so that it exposed the soft inner flesh.

Sawyer groaned, but Jack kept hold of him, worried that he might thrash. "Don't move." Jack warned him. "Just keep breathing like I said. Long, slow breaths. I'm going to give you something for the pain, but it's going to hurt for a second." He found a vein easily and pushed the needle in, Sawyer grunting and almost moving, but thinking better of it and holding out. "There." Jack pulled the needle back out and tore off a square of gauze, dabbing it onto the little bubble of blood that had formed.

Sawyer's brow was sweaty, his appearance more haggard than it had ever been, even when he was shot.

"You're going to be alright." Jack promised him. "Kate and I are going to be right outside this room if you need anything."

He was about to climb down when Sawyer shifted, letting out a grunt, "Doc?" he said through clenched teeth.

"I don't want to hear-"

His eyebrows hitched beneath the washcloth in sliding concern as unconsciousness was taking its hold on him. "I can't feel my legs..."

* * *

guh.sorry for the cliche chap-ending. but yeah.did you like it? i'm pretty proud of it. it took me an ENTIRE day to write (not inc. coffee breaks.)but just imagine. Jack was shirtless for _all_ of that Sawyer-taking-care-of-ness. because. well. that's just too hott not to happen. 

(& on a side note. the research i did for this was a lot more indepth than the chapter came out sounding. lots of type 3s and -oxin Cs and whatnot. so my stronghold is either that i'll be really REALLY astute when the March episode plays. or i'll have gotten it all COMPLETELY wrong. i'm good with either...


	6. Chapter 6

so thanks to all those that left reviews. and just to let you know. i'll try to keep the Jack/Kate and the Sawyer/Kate insinuations about as even as possible, and Hurley WILL end up coming back. but you'll just have to wait through all the other stuff…ta.

* * *

"Jack?" Her voice broke and she choked back the urge to cry, her eyes burning. 

Jack sat on the couch with his head in his hands, looking defeated. A state in which Kate had never seen him in and it scared her.

He didn't move at the sound of her voice, remaining staring at the floor between the arches of his bare feet, enrapt in thought. The skin across his back and down his arms was tight in goose bumps, but he hadn't seemed to notice.

Kate had to tear herself away from his bent form, not able to watch him be like this any more than she absolutely had to. She went into the laundry room, finding him a white tee shirt, having forgotten about his sweater in the bathroom.

She kneeled down in front of him and put a hand on his knee, feeling him jump when she touched him, his head raising to reveal wet eyes."Jack?"

"I don't know what to do for him." He confessed shakily, turning back and locking eyes with her.

The weight of that statement coming out of his own lips caused a chill down his spine. He'd only been helpless like this once before, a time that had almost destroyed him – when his wife had left him.

"It's going to be okay." Kate tried to comfort him, her words sounding empty to her. "Sawyer's stubborn. Do you think he's really going to let this cripple him?"

"The neurotoxin has nothing to do with Sawyer." he spoke flatly to the ground.

"It has _everything_ to do with Sawyer." She tried to laugh, trying to prove that it was true. She'd seen people do amazing things in desperate situations.

Jack didn't say anything, looking like nothing more than a brittle husk of a man thatcould collapse if a weak breeze strayed through the room.Kate, knowing that she was never going toconvince him any time soon,bunched up the shirt around the sleeve and began to slide it onto his hand, continuing to dress him fully as he made no attempt to stop her.

His face was pale, more drawn than it ever had been, a purple and brown bruise beginning to softly showon his cheekbone from the supposed rock in the mud she'd thrown at him.

She heard a soft grumbling, realizing that it was coming from him after a couple spells of it. She put a hand against his stomach, feeling it tremble.

"When was the last time you ate?" She asked.

He looked up at her with red-wrung eyes, but didn't answer, his stare dull.

"Beside the candy bar? Did you even eat anything today?"

"I had breakfast." His eyes were swollen and heavy with 50+ sleepless nights.

She took his face in her hands, dabbing her cool thumb pads against the puffy skin around his eyes. "When was the last time you even had a full night's sleep?"

"Why? Are you going to drug me again?" he asked numbly.

"Jack." She threatened.

"I'm fine…"

"You look like hell…"

"I'm fine Kate." He stated, pushing her hands away from him.

"I'm not going to argue with you about this..."

She'd seen him constantly neglect taking care of himself, from the time when they first crashed on the beach to the tragedy with Boone. The way he wouldn't stop, having to make everyone feel safe, even when it was out of his control.

His unrelenting commitment to everything frightened her the most.

"There's nothing to argue about..." He didn't want this again.

"You really need to stop doing this to yourself…"

"Doing what?"

Could he really be that oblivious to it?

"Putting everyone else's needs in front of yours, it's not worth it. You can take care of the rest of us so long as you take care of yourself! You're no use to anyone if you can't even stand up at the end of the day!"

"Kate-" he began.

But her lecture had gained momentum, her voice becoming louder than she realized. "Jack. You are not going to save everyone! It doesn't matter how hard you try or how far you're willing to go. You can't save everyone Jack! You just can't-"

He was up from the couch in one vicious move, his eyes aflame, his voice echoing through the hatch, "don't _ever_ tell me what I can't do!"

She stood in shock for a moment, then snapped back to her senses, his outburst seeming to have electrified her bones. "Not everyone wants to be saved Jack!" She screamed back at him, suddenly loosed tears rolling down her pink cheeks. "LOOK WHERE WE ARE FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"

He stared hard at her for a long, long time, his eyes flickering through emotions so fast she couldn't read them, until he looked away. With his jaw muscles flexing on the sides of his face, he walked silently into the bathroom, coming back out with his shoes and the hoody in his hands.

"I'll be outside." He said in a hollow voice, not looking back as he walked out the door, closing it behind him.

Kate stood in place for a long while, staring at the place where he'd disappeared, feeling the boiling push of tears fighting to get out of her. But she held them back, forcing herself to stay sober. Then she tore her eyes away from the door and walked into thecomputer room, deciding she needed to find something else to think about.

If Jackwas going to do this, to himself, to everyone until he passed out. Fine. Let him.

She sniffed back the persistent burn of tears as she glanced at the numbers above the doorway. They read 004:04.

She sat down at the desk, holding her forehead up with her hand and trying desperately to lose herself in the calm blinking of the thick green cursor. When the numbers finally flipped to 004:01 she started to count the seconds, forcing her voice to stay even, strong.

"One alligator, two alligator, three alligator…" she held her fingers at ready over the keyboard, clacking the numbers in just as the alarm sounded, allowing it nothing more than three warning honks.

The numbers flipped indifferently back to 108:00, suddenly and abjectly leaving her with nothing to do. Shewalked out of the room cursing beneath her breath, passing by the bedroom and pausing mid-stride, putting a hand against the doorframe, looking in, wondering if Sawyer was awake, torn between hoping that he was and he wasn't.

She could see the window-lit outline of him lying on his back, the tears in her eyes making his silhouette gleam.

"I take it you won…" his deep scratchy voice came out of the darkness.

She watched himpick the towel off of his eyes.

Her voice broke when she spoke, "what?"

"I'd think about headin' off to the other side of the island if y'all are gonna do anymore of that pillow talk." He grunted as he tried to move his mostly unresponsive body. "Some people around here need to catch up on their sleep. Or haven't you read the Doc's clipboard?"

"What are you doing?" She didn't like the fact that he was moving himself around so much.

"Makin' room for ya." He turned to her, panting, having gotten himself pushed up against the back wall, lying on his side. "C'mere Freckles."

"No, Sawyer…" she wasn't in the mood for his flirting.

"Jabba called dibs on this spot b'fore you kiddo, I'd take it while the gettin's good."

"You should be sleeping..."

"Seems like Doc forgot to account for my tolerance to meds." He drawled.

She frowned at him, not stepping forward, just staring at his broad-shouldered silhouette.

"You're gonna end up blendin' into the wallpaper if you take anymore time thinkin' about it. An' refusin' a sick man, well… " hesaid underhandedly, "…that's just plain bad manners. Lady Karma likes to come back aroundan' get revenge on stuff like that."

"You superstitious now?" she looked at him from beneath her brow.

He thought about it. "Bein' stabbed, shot, poisoned...guess this island has a way of changin' a man." His lips curled up into a sneer. "Makin' himthink twice about sleepin'alone in the dark." his sly humor and enticements finally breaking her down.

She sighed through a laugh and finally moved from her spot, slowly climbing up the ladder only to stop at the top and give him a long look of reluctancy.

"You ain't gonna break me," he assured her with a serious look.

She slowly climbed on, trying to stay as far away from touching him as possible, which left her curled on the very edge of the bed, any sudden movement likely to roll her off the side.

"An' I ain't gonna bite you Freckles." He commented, reaching over with his good hand and letting it fall between her shoulders, pulling her towards him and off the edge. The angle for him to do such must have been hard, having been laying on the arm, but he managed it despite everything.

She helped by moving with his arm, all the while watching the twinge he couldn't hide in his face.

"There," he said breathily when she was close enough to him for his liking. "This kinda makes me feel like we're havin' a sleepover. Wish I woulda worn my bunny jammies."

Then his tone turned semi-serious when she didn't react. "So what were you and Doc squabblin' about?"

"Nothing." Kate said quietly, her voice small.

"Nothin'," he repeated sardonically, "ain't that whatall women fight about?"

She gave him a look, but he didn't falter. "You're gonnastart makin' me regret invitin' you to this spot instead of Big Mac forthis slumber party if you keep this up. Now I think I remember you yellin' somethin' that'll carve the Doc a new hole to worry through."

She sighed, not having expecting to be talking about Jack to Sawyer of all people. Sawyer was feeling pretty much the same about it as well, though taking a step forward and preferring to be doing something else _entirely_ with Kate.

"He doesn't take care of himself." Kate said in a small voice.

"Well that's a big ol' newsflash to me." He said sarcastically.

"You do the same thing, Sawyer," she cut into hiscomment beforehis egocould unfurl itself.

"No I don't."

"So this right here," she pointed out, "this is you _not_ not taking care of yourself?"

"I thought comparin' me to Saint Jack was frowned on these days…" he cut into her ego right back.

She glared at him and he smiled, liking the fact that he'd cornered her.

"Here's how it all slices out Freckles." He shifted his head on the pillow, looking up at the ceiling. "Doc's gonna keep on his 'holier than thou' crusade. You're gonna scream at him till you're soar in the toes about it. And then I'm just gonna lie here and appreciate the fact that Kermit the Frog gave me front row seats to it all."

"How big was it?" She was tired of talking about Jack already, knowing that it was just going to end badly.

"How big was what?"

"The frog."

"Hell," he lifted his hand to look at the damage in the dim light, "the damn thing wasn't even worth stickin' with a fork, let alone a gig." The lesion was blotchy and dark across his palm and fingers.

"That looks like it hurts." She said softly.

"You wanna kiss it better?" He grinned slyly.

"You should get some sleep," she tried.

"About as much as you should too," he said. "You gonna stay with me?"

She eyed him, realizing that she was indeed tired. And the moment she realized it, was the moment it became the heaviest feeling that'd ever pressed into her.

"I got too much pillow here for just one person Sassafras."

She sighed with a smile, "isthis what you always doto get a girl in bed with you?"

"Not more than I have to." He mused.

She rolled her eyes and turned over so that she was facing out so that it wouldn't entice him to try anything, reaching down and pulling up the sheets. "All we're doing is sleeping Sawyer."

"I ain't an animal." He reached over her with his hurt right hand and used his wrist to pull her back towards him, appreciating the fact that she came with it. "I'm cold." Was all he said about it.

"If Jack saw us right now," Kate commented, "he'd freak."

Despite her better judgement, she didn't want to move away from him. The feeling of having a body so close to hers was intoxicating. Just as she'd remembered it. It'd been so long since she'd been able to do this, so long since she'd felt comfortable enough with someone _to_ do it. She lost herself in it almost instantly. "He'd probably kill us both."

Sawyer sighed and sank heavily into the pillow, letting his hand hang freely off her side, finally giving into the exhaustion that had been coursing through him all along.

"If Jack saw us right now," he talked groggily into the back of her hair, allowing himself a small smile of triumph. "I'd put on a bowtie an' be happier than hell to meet my maker…"

* * *

i am personally responsible for making up words in this chapter…yay.

oh. and upon watching the season one pilot that reran this wednesday. i noticed that in the sneak peek for next wednesday. they didn't show anything about Sawyer or Jack. which means something's TOTALLY up with them… in my opinion anyway evil grin

p.s. a "frog gig" is a sort of spear used for hunting bullfrogs in the south. for those that don't know. i'm from idaho. so i didn't know about either until i ran across it …fun fact.

p.s.p.s. i'm going on a snowshoeing trip with my mom this weekend. so i won't be able to update this story until the beginning of next week. so sorry.


	7. Chapter 7

if this last chapter sounds hastily put together. that's because it is! oh. and i saw the promo pictures for the episode tonight. Sawyer's standing. i was wrong. commence laughing and pointing...

* * *

Kate awoke with a quick breath, startled by a vaguely familiar sound. But the fuzzy heels of a retreating dream about an elk on fire confused her thoughts.

It sounded again, this time louder, more clear.

She blinked, slowly beginning to register the heavy, almost feral breathing of Sawyer behind her.

It sounded again.

She realized it was the four-minute warning for the button.

Kate sat up and looked over at Sawyer, he was lying on his back, his slow, rolling breaths tinged with faint growling, his eyes zooming around beneath his lids, caught in REM.

It sounded again.

She moved gradually, inching her body down to the foot of the bunk bed, careful not to jostle it too much or to touch him, not wanting him to wake.

From the dimness of the artificial light coming through the window, it was still night.

It sounded again.

She successfully moved off the bed and touched down onto the cold concrete floor, finally noticing that her feet were bare. She saw her socks as she passed, figuring she must have taken them off while she was asleep. Appreciating the fact that that had been all that had come off in the night.

Again.

She shuffled into the room, craning her neck back as she came to see it counting down from 003:47.

She entered the numbers and hit execute without a second glance, the numbers flipped, and she twisted her neck in her hand, working out a kink in a few soft, but audible pops.

Then walked back into the bedroom, her eyes floating around the sharp relief of Sawyer's silhouette against the blue light of the window. She finally realized how musty and thick the room smelled now that she'd been out of it.

She decided she needed air, if only for a minute, just enough time to gather her thoughts. The ones that came raging back to her, battling between Jack and Sawyer like they'd been since the crash. This time between whether to stay and sleep at Sawyer's side, or go find Jack and see how he was doing, try to make amends.

She grabbed up her socks and went to the kitchen, finding her boots in the sink where she'd left them, caked in half-dried mud. She gave them a feeble wash by running them under the faucet them put them on with her socks, heading out the hatch door.

The outside air was salty and lukewarm, almost perfect if it wouldn't have been for the humidity. The misty pink of predawn bled its color all over the jungle, the waxy wet fronds reflecting it, looking beautiful.

"Morning Kate."

She turned, seeing Locke sitting on his heel off to her left, unpeeling a banana with one of his relatively average-sized knives.

"Hey John." He offered up half the banana to her. "Have you seen Jack at all?" she asked, taking it obligingly.

"Not recently." He said. "Though I saw him go into the jungle a couple of hours ago. Maybe he went back to camp?"

"Did he look mad?" She pushed the whole half of the banana into her mouth.

"I don't know." John said honestly, slicing off a little chunk of his and knifing it into his mouth. "I only saw his back."

She nodded and put a hand up in front of the yellow mush in her mouth, asking through her fingers, "did anyone try to come into the hatch?"

"Not that I know of." He took another slice.

The banana made her cheeks big as she chewed and she tried to swallow it fast so she could talk, pushing the remains to the side of her mouth when they wouldn't go down fast enough. "Did you find the guns?"

"No." he smiled calmly up at her, "but I'm patient."

She swallowed down the last of the banana and wiped her hands on the side of her pants. "I was wondering if you wouldn't mind watching the hatch for a little bit? I need to stretch my legs."

"Sure." Locke said, taking the last bite of banana, rising to his feet. "How is he?"

"Sawyer?" he nodded, "he's fine. As good as he can be for what happened to him I guess."

John returned her smile, picking his pack up from the ground beside him. "And how are you?"

"I'm…" she paused, realizing that she hadn't been asked that question since…since she couldn't last remember. "I'm okay."

"Good."

"Thanks John." She said as he went by her into the hatch.

Locke smiled and closed the door.

Kate turned and headed towards the beach. The silence and the time it took getting there eaten up by the repetitive crash of the ocean against the sand. As she approached, she heard and followed the sound of crunching, finding Sayid husking coconuts a little ways off the path, sweat showing down his back.

"Hey Sayid. Have you seen Jack?" she asked, eyeing the large mounds of divided coconut husks and seeds in separated piles at his side. He'd obviously been unable to sleep.

"No. I have not." Sayid didn't look back, continuing to husk.

"Do you think anyone else saw him come back?"

"Everyone is asleep." He said, peeling away a strip of husk, "But it is possible that Jack did not use the most direct path back to the beach. I do not know. I am not his travel guide."

Kate registered that Sayid had just made a sort of joke, but with his voice so dead, it wasn't worth reacting to.

When she didn't move to leave or say anything else, he sensed her worry. And finally turned around. "Why are you so concerned with the whereabouts of Jack?"

"He just," Kate began, "he's not taking care of himself again. And he left the hatch and now I don't know where he-" Danielle suddenly appeared from the jungle, making a b-line towards them. Her thin face looked determined, her rifle hanging loose in her hand.

"Rousseau." Sayid got to his feet. "What are you doing here?" Her appearance reminded him vividly of when she'd come looking for him, having trapped Henry in a net. He didn't want another captive.

Danielle stopped a few feet away from them, eyeing Kate critically before she decided that she could speak to the both of them. "I have seen your doctor in the jungle." She said bluntly.

"Jack?" Kate stepped forward, slightly amazed that she was coming with this information. "He's out there? Is he okay?"

"Follow me." Danielle said to Sayid, turning and heading back into the jungle.

The whole suddenness of Danielle's appearance with the answers Kate needed was a little surprising, but when she looked to Sayid and watched him follow her unquestioningly, she felt that that was enough indication for it to be alright.

Danielle slipped silently through the tangle of fronds that was their path, Sayid and Kate having a little more trouble at keeping it quiet, but did relatively well.

"What were you doing back here?" Kate asked, trying to meet Danielle's pace so that she could talk with her.

"I was on my way to find Sayid." Danielle said, staring out at her path. "When I heard you two talking about your missing doctor."

"And what was Jack doing when you saw him?" Kate asked, somewhat hesitant.

Danielle finally glanced at her out of the corner of her eye, pursing her thin lips. "He has been walking in circles…he seems delirious."

Their path through the jungle was relatively straight. And five minutes into the walk, Danielle stopped, pointing further on in front of her. "He's up ahead."

Kate took off, disappearing out of sight. Sayid intending to follow, but Danielle grabbed his elbow, holding him back, giving him a serious look. "If he has the fever…" she began, looking concernedly at him, her hand habitually tightening around the stock of her rifle.

"He does not." Sayid said. "He has a tendency to work himself in exhaustion. He needs rest."

"This happens often?" Danielle's eyebrows furrowed.

"Relatively." What would have usually accompanied an answer like this, would have been a smirk. But there was no happiness on Sayid's face, there was no reason for him to smile.

"You should keep better track of your people Sayid. Especially now." She looked back out into the direction of where Kate had disappeared, wrapping her arms loosely in front of her stomach, her elbow cradling her rifle. "What did you discover about the man I caught in my net?"

"You were right about Henry." Sayid said, looking out to where she was looking, seeing a wall of plants. "He's an 'Other'."

"I know I was right." She stated simply, without any pride in her voice. "But what did you learn from him?"

"Nothing." His hand tightened next to his side.

"I take it she does not know about him?" She motioned towards Kate.

"I assume not, she has not spoke of him to me. "

"Perhaps he has escaped." Danielle glanced at him.

"That is impossible…Locke-"

She leveled him with her eyes, her voice strong. "_Everything_ is possible with these people."

He returned her gaze and was abruptly sobered, finding an alternative reason. "Perhaps he is listening-" then he heard Kate calling his name and stepped forward, followed by Danielle, both of them emerging to find Kate stooped over Jack, who was on his knees. His collar and armpits were ringed with sweat, his face white, his half-closed eyes red, and his stare blank.

"We need to get him back to the hatch…" Kate said, putting a hand beneath on of Jack's arms in an attempt to get him to stand, Sayid stepping forward to help. Danielle watched as they lifted Jack from the ground, pulling his arms over their shoulders and helping him to walk, steering him.

Back at the hatch, Hurley walked in the door. "Hello?" He called. "Jack?" He was carrying a big blue suitcase full of clothes.

Locke walked out of the computer room, grinning close-lipped at him. "Hello Hugo."

"Hey man. Is Jack in?" Hurley put the suitcase down, huffing slightly.

"No. It's just James and me." He scratched the side of his head.

"James?" Hurley was slightly confused, "oh. You mean Sawyer. How is he?" He remembered seeing his first name on the manifest, but he'd refused to use it in case he lost a piece of his earlobe for calling him that or something.

"Sleeping."

Hurley nodded and lifted the suitcase from the ground. "Is it alright to do some laundry? I sort of got a …date."

Locke didn't seem surprised. "Libby?"

"Uh. Yeah." Hurley's cheeks turned slightly pink. They'd been washing clothes together at a designated time for the past week and a half. "Is it cool if I wait here? She was suppose to come with me but she's doing some hypnosis thing on Claire..."

Locke frowned, but pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind, deciding that his help was not necessary if Claire did not ask him for it.

Locke eyed the suitcase instead. "You managed to make all those clothes dirty since last time?" John had usually been on button duty when they'd had their clothes washing rendezvous.

Hurley shifted uncomfortably, "no, well, I sorta…threw them in the mud…" he confessed.

The door opened suddenly, revealing Danielle, followed closely by Sayid and Kate who were holding up Jack. He was dragging his feet between them, his head lolling against his chest.

Hurley and Locke backed out of the way as Sayid and Kate shuffled quickly into the bedroom, manipulating Jack so that he was laid out on the bottom bunk. Kate loosened and pulled off his shoes, then arched over his head, watching him try to speak.

Jack fought to open his eyes, taking in big whiffs of air, but he just couldn't manage to keep his eyelids anymore than half open. "Where…am I…?"

"You're back in the hatch now Jack. You just need to get some sleep." She stroked his head, his sweaty buzzed hair rasping beneath her palm. He groaned, something that was meant to be contradictory, but his eyes slipped closed.

"What happened?" Locke asked Sayid, who'd joined him in the doorway of the room, letting Kate have her space with Jack. Hurley was standing behind them, suitcase still clutched in his hands.

"Rousseau found Jack walking in circles in the jungle-"

There was an irritated snarl that came from the top bunk. "You mind keepin' it _down_ down there!" Sawyer roared as he scooted his torso towards the side of the bed with a grimace, looking down, surprised to find so many people there.

"What the hell-" his scowl roamed over the faces in the doorway. "Does someone wanna tell me why the Island Circus decided to throw up their Big Top in my room?"

Hurley answered. "It's Jack dude…he's sick."

"What?" realization slowly dawned on Sawyer's face. "You're tellin' me Dr. Quinn's outta commission?" he pulled himself even further over the side of the bed, trying to look down to where Jack was, coming face to face with Kate's daggered glare.

He just smiled coyly at her, "mornin' Freckles, how'd you sleep?"

Her eyes burned into his, distress tinged with a desperate plead to leave her alone.

He took into account last night what had happened between them, how she'd slept next to him, knowing now that had been theirs. And now it was Jack's turn to get her attention, the stakes were back to zero.

He stared at her for a long moment, then obliged silently, pulling himself back up on the bed. "Well you all enjoy bein' peanut gallery to Jacko's beauty sleep, but I'm going back to bed."

He made an effort to make a comfortable place with his head in his pillow and closed his eyes, letting out a growling breath as he tried to relax. Tried not to worry about the legs he couldn't feel, wanting to sleep.

"Jack!" came a call from the entryway of the hatch.

"Son of a bitch!" Sawyer snarled, pulling the pillow from beneath his head and putting it over his face, trying to block out the new noise.

Claire and Libby came into the hatch, looking flustered. They went straight for the bedroom, seeing Hurley, Locke, and Sayid standing there in the doorway. "Where's Jack?"

"He's out of it." Hurley said, flashing a small smile at Libby, to which she returned.

"Wha-no. But i…" Claire stuttered, her eyes trained on Locke, "…Aaron…I don't know what to do…" tears started forming in her eyes and she came forward, the exhaustion of her sleepless night and the turmoil all too much to handle. She fell into Locke's chest, crying.

"What's wrong with Aaron?" Locke looked up at Libby, wrapping his arms around Claire, confused.

"He's been sick all night." Libby answered, looking apologetically at the back of Claire's head. "And she asked me to try and help her with her amnesia from when she was kidnapped, to see if she might remember something about what they might have done to her…"

"Did it work?" Hurley asked.

"I…she won't tell me. She just said that we needed to find Jack."

"What's going on?" Kate appeared beside Hurley, putting a hand on his arm to get him to step aside so she could see what all the commotion was about. "Claire, where's Aaron?"

Claire pulled her face out of Locke's chest, wiping at the wetness striping her cheeks. "He's with Sun." she said, trying to get a hold of herself. "Kate? Will you come with me?"

"To where?" she stepped in front of Hurley.

"I want to go back to where Ethan kidnapped me."

"Why?"

"Because maybe if I'm in that place again I'll remember what happened." Her voice cracked when she spoke.

"But Locke-" Kate didn't want to leave Jack's side.

"I've got things to do here." Locke said plainly, figuring that there was a reason why Claire didn't ask him to go.

She blinked at him, confused, her gaze passing over Libby, expecting her to volunteer since she'd started all this.

Libby squirmed. "I don't want to go back out there." She glanced at Hurley, who understood.

"Go Kate." Sayid spoke up. "I will watch over Jack until you return." He found the opportunity of getting all those people possible that didn't know about Henry out of the hatch, a good idea.

Kate opened her mouth to say something.

"Please Kate." Claire begged her.

"But we don't have any guns…what if-"

"That's right. You don't." Came Sawyer's voice from the room, he was lying on his back, looking up at the ceiling. "Now can we move your little powwow elsewhere?"

Kate walked back into the room. "Where are the guns Sawyer?"

He sighed audibly. "Freckles. Do you _really_ think I'm going to tell you?"

"Where are they?"

"What are you gonna do? Push me off the bed?"

"Where are the guns!" She yelled.

"Yelling is pointless Kate." Locke interrupted calmly, knowing where this was headed. "He's not going to expose where he hid the guns to any of us and he's not going to take any of us there."

"Well how 'bout that?" Sawyer chimed in dryly. "Jiminy Cricket's got me pegged-"

"I will go." Danielle stepped out of the computer room, her arm bent around her rifle, her face solemn.

Claire backed up into Locke and he put a hand on her shoulder, assuring her. "Why you?" she asked.

"I have a rifle." Rousseau said stoically.

"But you're part of it-" Claire shook her head. "Those marks on your arm…"

"I was trying to return you to your camp." Danielle said, "you scratched me and ran."

"You stole my baby!" Claire screamed at her, held back by Locke.

"I would like to make up for that." Everyone else stared at her, Claire's struggles against Locke's grip slackened. "Perhaps returning to the place where this …Ethan took you will reveal what it wrong with your baby Aaron." She looked at Sayid.

"She knows this jungle." He said in her defense. "She's been here for sixteen years."

"She _can_ help us Claire." Kate said warily, looking from Claire to Rousseau. Realizing that if Sawyer wasn't going to give up the location of the guns, she was their best chance at protection. But Claire still looked scared, Kate taking her by the shoulders, "I won't let anything happen to you."

Claire remembered Charlie telling her this exact same thing, but coming from Kate it was easier to accept. Thinking perhaps that it was because she had helped her deliver Aaron. But she took a long time to decide, all the time staring at Rousseau, all the time worrying about her sick baby.

"Fine."

"Then it is settled." Danielle said, turning her back to them. "We are to leave now." She walked out of the hatch without a second look back.

"Kate." Locke went to the kitchen nook and grabbed his pack off the table, returning and offering it out to her. "Take this."

She took it, knowing that it had knives in it. Supplies. She slung it over her shoulder, "we'll be back by sunset."

Sayid and Locke nodded as the two women walked out of the hatch. Hurley had a hand on Libby's shoulder, Libby's hand on top of his. "D'you think they'll be alright?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Oh yeah." Hurley said, though his tone was slightly reluctant.

"Kate wouldn't let anything happen to Claire." Locke said soothingly, turning and walking back into bedroom. Knowing his words to be true.

"If Locke's not worried," Hurley breathed, "I'm not worried."

Sayid nodded to the both of them and went back into the room as well.

"So if you're not too weirded out by all this." Hurley said "You still wanna do some laundry?"

"You're not weirded out?" Libby asked.

"Not really, this kind of stuff happens to us all the time." Hurley said, lifting up the suitcase full of clothes, heading towards the wash room.

"Really?"

"You should have been with us when we first got here. We shot a polar bear…"


End file.
